Sweet Dreams are Made of These
by Cyndy
Summary: BoothBones. Set in current scene, after the latest episode. Booth has been having sex dreams about Bones and that leads to sexual frustration. Romantic Comedy
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Sweet Dreams are Made of These

**Chapter Title:** Nocturnal Commissions

**Genre: **Romantic Comedy

**Rating:** R

**Pairing:** Booth/Brennan

**Description:** Booth has been having sex dreams about Brennan. What does it mean for their relationship?

**Disclaimer:** All characters belong to Fox. Not me.

**Dedication:** To the delicious and devilish David Boreanaz.

"I'm having sex dreams."

Dr. Wyatt raised an eyebrow. "I'm sorry. I must have misheard you. What did you say, agent?"

"Sex dreams," Booth gritted out. "Since I have to keep coming to therapy, I might as well get something out of it. I keep on having sex dream, Doc." He still wasn't clear why he had to be in therapy.

They sat at the dining room table in the doctor's house. Booth stared into his cup of coffee as though it contained the secret of life. Everything seemed to be a mess lately.

"Yes, well, such rousing praise for my competence not withstanding, I'd be happy to assist you in any way I can. Whom are you having these dreams about?" Dr. Wyatt said with a sly smile on his face. "Is it me perchance? Transference is a normal part of therapy, where a patient assumes that a therapist's unconditional support and caring are more than--"

Booth shook his head, his teeth gritting. "Not about you. About someone else. Someone female." Not that he cared, he just didn't have feelings for men.

Dr. Wyatt grinned. "I was just making sure. I'm certain you must have picked up on the fact that I am a gay man. After all, therapy is an intimate relationship to have with someone. Besides, you've made me dinner at my house and we've spent a great deal of time getting to know one another." He patted Booth's hand. "Aside from the fact that it would be completely inappropriate for me to get involved with a patient, you aren't my type."  
Both cocked his head to the side. "Why not? I'm hot. My body is amazing. Have you seen my abs? I do fifty crunches a day."

Dr. Wyatt took a sip of his coffee. "I'm sure your body is very attractive. Now then, tell me about these dreams. Who is the object of your nightly lust?"

Booth looked up, eyes wild. "Who said anything about lust? I know a little about psychology. I might not have a degree in head shrinking, but even I know that dreams aren't always what they seem. Just because I'm dreaming about having sex with my partner, doesn't mean that I actually want to jump her. Maybe I'm angry with her or I'm thinking about—"

"Yes, your hunches are very interesting, but I need more information before I can make an assessment." The doctor leaned forward, eyes narrowed. "Tell me. Is there any physical…manifestations of your dreams?"

"You mean…" booth cocked his head to the side. "What do you mean?"

"Nocturnal emissions?" Dr. Wyatt prompted.

"Nocturnal emission? Oh, you mean, nocturnal, uh, emissions. Booth closed his eyes. "Er, yes. Sometimes, I wake up and my sheets are…stained. That hasn't happened since I was in college." He coughed. "I'm not currently in a sexual relationship at the moment. Well, I sort of have been carrying on with an ex-lover of mine, but lately we haven't been. _Involved."_

Dr. Wyatt stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Now we're getting somewhere. You said you are having these dreams about your colleague? Dr. Temperance Brennan?"  
He squared his jaw. "Yes, about her. So what is it, Doc? Some kind of fluke? Or maybe—"

"Due to the physical manifestations, I'd say these dreams are pretty straightforward. You are sexually attracted to your partner."

Booth shook his head. "No. We're friends. Partners. Buddies, you know. She's my female buddy, in a manly sort of way. I don't want to have sex with her. At all. Understand?"

Dr. Wyatt narrowed his eyes. "Methinks you protest too much, my good sir. A simple 'no' would have sufficed."

"Okay. No." Booth drained his coffee cup and set it down on the table with a pronounced _thump._

"Why are you so aggravated, agent? Is this why you committed a homicide on the poor, unsuspecting clown?"

Booth stood up and began to pace the linoleum floor. "That isn't possible. I'm not saying I'm sexually frustrated, but if I were, it wouldn't be enough to set me off. Push me over the edge."

"Maybe, but sexual frustration isn't something you can continue to ignore, Agent Booth. "It's adding to your anger, so you need to diffuse the situation."

Booth stopped pacing and looked down at the doctor. "How?"

"You need to confront, Dr. Brennan. Tell her how you feel."

"No! That would ruin our relationship."

"I notice you said relationship, not partnership."

Booth scowled. "Stop analyzing me."

"That's what I get paid to do."

Booth placed his coffee cup in the sink. "Look. I'm going to go. I have some paperwork to catch up on. Filing. That sort of thing."

"If you don't want to talk, all you have to do is say so."

"Fine. I don't want to talk about it." Booth turned around and gestured to his backside. "See? I'm a hottie."

Dr. Wyatt shrugged. "Let's see if Dr. Brennan feels the same way."

"I'm frustrated."

Booth glanced at Bones as they drove to yet another crime scene. Sexual homicide. The woman's remains had been found in a field outside of the city limits. Badly decomposed.

"About what? Things aren't going well with Sully?" he was amazed at the amount of anger in his words. Thankfully, ever literal, Bones analyzed his words and not his facial expression when he said it.

"No, the mating rituals of our relationship are progressing at a normal rate. We're engaging in courtship rituals like dinners and hand holding in public. Pair bonding. But, sexually speaking, something is lacking. We're…Booth! Look out!"

Booth swerved into the other lane, narrowly avoiding another car. "What? I'm fine. We're fine. No damage done."

"You nearly killed us both. Maybe I should drive?"

"Not going to happen. This is my FBI vehicle. Besides, I'm the man."

Bones shook her head, a smile on her lips. "Yes, I forgot about the biological imperative you have to be in control, even if it is an illusion. It's like Sully. He insists on being the sexual aggressor in any encounter we have, even though I haven't been satisfied yet."

"Satisfied?" Booth felt like the top of his head was about to blow off. Too much information. Or not enough. He felt like he should be paying $3.99 a minute for this. At least.

"Sexually. Despite the size of his sexual organ, he hasn't given me an orgasm."

Booth coughed. "Bones, I don't know if this is appropriate or--"

"Please. We're partners. We should share everything. Besides, I need advice from someone who is experienced sexually, and in relationships."

"You want sex advice from me?" Booth asked incredulously as he turned on to the street. Ahead of them, a gathering of police vehicles indicated the spot they were looking for.

"Well, relationship advice, but if you have any pointers, I'd be happy to take them under advisement."

Booth threw the SUV into park. "Just how big are we talking?"

Bones grinned at him. "Huge."

"I see." He opened the door. "I think we should leave the personal stuff in the car and take a look at the dead body. Fine with me."

Couldn't get this plot bunny out of my head. Is it worth continuing?


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: **Sweet Dreams are Made of These

**Chapter Title:** Getting Cozy

**Genre: **Romantic Comedy

**Rating:** R

**Pairing:** Booth/Brennan

**Description:** Booth has been having sex dreams about Brennan. What does it mean for their relationship?

**Disclaimer:** All characters belong to Fox. Not me.

**Dedication:** To the delicious and devilish David Boreanaz.

Booth seemed even more emotional than usual.

Even now, she could tell see his anger as he strutted around the lot barking orders at the hapless local police as they rushed to do his bidding.

Temperance couldn't decide how to approach him about the situation. She'd been over and over their interactions for the last several days but hadn't found anything that she'd done to cause the behavior.

Perhaps it was Cam that had set him off.

Shrugging, she made some notes on the case at hand. She didn't understand Booth sometimes. Perhaps she never would.

The corpse was in bad shape.

And she'd seen bad before. Temperance noticed that a great deal of insect activity had nearly stripped the bones completely bare. There was very little soft tissue to analyze. Next to the woman lay her bloodied underwear and open purse, which had been left out in the elements for month. One thing was for sure, the woman had been raped and stabbed several times if the nicks on her ribs were any indication.

One thing that Booth brought to her life and that was justice. She got justice for this people. That always felt good. So few things in life were fair or right.

Temperance got to her feet and flagged down an agent. "I need the body and everything in the area immediately surrounding it sent to the Jeffersonian."

The man nodded and rushed off, speaking into a walkie talkie.

She looked across the field. Booth was still barking orders, so she examined the scene at a more leisurely place. Isolated place. Perfect for dumping a body.

There wasn't enough blood for her to have been murdered here.

From the look of things, the body had been discarded here. The victim had been stripped bare, left out in the elements, like so much garbage. Sometimes, she worried that she didn't feel enough. When she examined a body, she simply tucked her emotions away in a box. She'd learned to do it as a graduate student while out on digs. That was only partially true. She'd been doing it since she was a child. Since she'd been put into foster care. It was easier if you didn't feel anything. Besides, she liked her job. Felt a sense of purpose.

Human bodies needed to be treated with dignity, and compassion to be sure, but she didn't feel anything when she looked at them.

Every now and then, she wondered if she always got back all the things she tucked away in her little box. The fears, the hopes. Sometimes, she felt like she wasn't alive. Not really. She went about the motions of every day living.

Then, Booth came into her life.

When she spent time with him, she felt…happy. Useful. Booth allowed her to make a difference. Something she wasn't used to. For the most part, her life was pleasant but she didn't feel happy or sad. Or much of anything really.

Being with Booth changed all that. Sometimes it felt good just to be rushed along in his wake.

And Sully.

Sully was a new but welcome development. It wasn't anything serious but playing with him felt good, none the less.

Except for the sex.

It was rather like being bludgeoned with a club covered in velvet every night. While his penis was delightfully large and well shaped, he didn't know how to use it properly and he didn't seem to be open to suggestions. Pity.

"Are you ready to go?" She looked up to see Booth standing by the car, jingling his keys impatiently.

"Sure."

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Back in the car again.

She watched him in the car again as they drove. Once more, his behavior was erratic. Swerving in and out of traffic, eyes focused on the road.

"Booth, are you angry about something?"

"No."

"You're doing an awfully good imitation of it then."

"Look, Bones, I don't need you to shrink me. I got a guy who does this for a living, a professional poking and prodding me all the time. I don't need you to join in. You're always telling me how you don't like psychology, so do me a favor and don't try it. It's not your area. I'm the people person. Remember?"

"Yes, it really shows."

He sighed. "I'm sorry. I just haven't been getting much rest lately. I've been having dreams that go on for…hours." His expression looked faraway. "It's incredible really."

"Your nightmares are incredible?" she asked. Curious.

"I didn't say they were nightmares." He changed lanes again. "Let's talk about something else."

"Temperance sighed. "I was just going to see if you wanted to come over tonight. Sully's on assignment and I've missed hanging out with you."

"Don't you have to spend time with the body or something?"

"Now that Zack is a full member of the team, my work load has lightened a bit. He's going to do the preliminary work."

'Tonight?"  
"Come on. What do you say?" she coaxed. "I'll order pizza and I have beer in the fridge."

That familiar smile spread over his face. "Are you trying to say you've missed me, Bones?"

"Something like that." She smiled at him.

"Fine. I'll come over, provided that we avoid some topics."

"Like?"

"Like work. I'm sick of always talking about work. Let's try to find some things in common."

She nodded. "Fine. I'll get a movie for us to watch. I bought a new t.v., this will be the first time I've watched it."

"And, let's not talk about your boyfriend's circus freak genitals or orgasms. Agreed?"  
She sighed "Agreed. But I'd hoped to ask for your help."

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"Who in their right mind puts goat cheese on pizza?" Booth said, peering at his slice with disdain. "I'm a fan of goat cheese, but in salads or pasta. Not pizza."

"I got a regular pepperoni one, too, in case you didn't like it. So, why don't you stop harping on it and have the boring kind instead? But you might consider trying new things."

Booth took a slice of the other pizza. "I like what I like. There's no need to change."

She sat down on the couch and pressed play on the remote control. "Are you coming in here?"

Booth slumped down next to her. Booth looked at the screen with something akin to horror. "It's so small. Why did you get an eighteen inch?"

"I believe that television is a waste of time. I'd much rather be reading."

Booth squinted at the screen. "Hold up. Is this _Two Weeks Notice_? You got a chick flick? I figured we'd be watching some documentary on ancient warriors or you'd make me sit threw a yawn-worthy foreign film."  
"I've become more interested in pop culture lately. My agent said that I need to be more familiar with the market place. Besides, the actor on the cover of the film had interesting features. Patrician, I think."

"We're watching Hugh Grant because you want to bone him?" Booth joked.

"If you mean I'm interested in his bone structure, yes. If you are referring to some sort of quasi-sexual desire I might have for this man, then you are mistaken."

"Not quasi-sexual. Sexual. You want to do the horizontal mambo with him." Booth waggled his eyebrows at her.

She frowned, thinking about the idea. "Maybe you're right. Maybe I'm so sexually frustrated that I sought out some kind of imagined sexual connection with this actor. Interesting."

"Hey! We said there wouldn't be any more discussion about getting off or penis size. Right?"

She pressed pause and turned to face him. "But, Booth, I need your assistance. Angela and I discuss this type of intimate information all the time."

"Angela is a girl. I'm a guy." Booth screwed up his face. "I don't want to talk about another guy's package with you."

"I just want your advice on how to approach the situation. Angela says…well, Angela says that I can be tactless sometimes."

He crossed his arms over his chest. "Only sometimes?"

"Booth!" she slapped his arm. "Come on. You have no idea how frustrated I am."

Booth took a sip of his beer. "You'd be surprised." He blew out a breath. "I'll tell you what. Let's turn off old Hugh. He's all stammery and twitchy. Makes me nervous and then we'll talk. Sound good?"

"I accept your offer."

He sighed. "Can't you just say yes like a normal person?"

She grinned. "No, because I'm not a normal person and what's more, you don't want to be. Can I get you another beer?"

"Keep them coming."


End file.
